


seasons to cycles, children to men

by coorelightgrey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coorelightgrey/pseuds/coorelightgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As the captain steps in to pull Yaku away and give him a lecture on controlling his temper, all Kuroo can think is that this is going to be a very, <i>very</i> interesting three years."</p>
<p>Or, snapshots of the growing relationship of one Yaku Morisuke and one Kuroo Tetsurou.</p>
<p>[written for SWAG2016]</p>
            </blockquote>





	seasons to cycles, children to men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/gifts).



> inspired by the quote: “be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.” - bernard m. baruch
> 
> au where i don't write kuroyaku fics for ice with terrible song lyric titles holy shit (worst au tho)

_first year, may._

 

To say that Yaku Morisuke’s rough around the edges is the understatement of the century. In a matter of weeks he manages to build up a reputation for himself - and not a very good one, at that. Rumors float around the first year halls that he’d beaten up several people for lunch money, was a member of a gang, and threatened several teachers for good grades.

Kuroo didn’t know the guy very well - like him, he’d joined the volleyball club, but avoided him like the plague and spent a majority of practice with the starting libero or the other first year, Kai - but, well. Even if he did seem a little too wound up at times, he couldn’t be that bad, right? 

Except after one poorly phrased comment about his short fuse and smaller stature, Yaku gives him a kick in the back of the legs hard enough to knock him onto the ground. He’s aware that Yaku’s standing over him, yelling obscenities at him, but the dull ache in his legs was enough to tune him out for the time-being. _Shit._

As the captain steps in to pull Yaku away and give him a lecture on controlling his temper, all Kuroo can think is that this is going to be a very, _very_ interesting three years.

****

 

_first year, november._

 

As it turns out, Yaku continues to smack Kuroo again and again, for reasons both logical (when Kuroo steps out of line) and ridiculous (pretty much every other time). With Yaku’s aggression growing by the day and reputation souring by the second, Kuroo knows something has to change, and fast.

Months of bickering, teasing, and butting heads culminate to this: a loss at Spring High’s Tokyo Representative Playoffs, after Yaku’s first high school appearance on the court; Yaku punching a wall in frustration, repeatedly, until his knuckles bled; Yaku punching _Kuroo_ in frustration after Kuroo tried to pull him away from the wall; more yelling, more kicks and punches from Yaku; a wake-up call that he’s gone too far this time.

“You’re an idiot.” Yaku seethes, pinching Kuroo’s nose closed with a little more force than necessary. They’re sitting in the nurse’s office, Kuroo on the bed and Yaku on a chair next to him, with blood sticking to Kuroo’s face and shirt.

Despite the black eye, bloody nose, and countless other bruises he knows he’ll wake up with the next morning, Kuroo grins. “I know.”

Yaku sighs. “And you’re being a bigger one now - keep the ice on your face.” He holds the ice pack to Kuroo’s face, expecting him to take over after a few seconds.

It takes a sharp glare from Yaku for Kuroo to take the hint - his fingers brush against Yaku’s briefly as he adjusts the placement over his swollen cheek. “Are we cool now?”

A few seconds pass before Yaku replies. “... Yeah. We’re cool.”

The smile Kuroo gives him is enough to light up the room and Yaku finds himself glad for the ice pack, if only to hide how much his smile brightens up his own face.

****

 

_second year, april._

 

Yaku’s three steps into the gym (a new year, a new team, new starting members with himself included) when Kuroo stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Hey - can I talk to you for a moment?”

Inside the gym, the rest of the team begins to congregate to warm up and prepare for the arrival of their new members. Yaku furrows his eyebrows. “You know you’re going to make us late, right?”

“It’ll only be a minute. Promise.” Kuroo raises a hand, as though taking an oath. “And I’ll take the blame.”

He thinks of brushing him off, asking if it can wait until after practice, but the look in Kuroo’s eyes is oddly serious. So he sighs in defeat and pats the hand on his shoulder. “Good - you’re getting blamed anyway.”

Kuroo doesn’t take them far from the gym’s - just enough to give them the semblance of privacy. He looks around for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s about Kenma.”

Yaku crosses his arms. He remembers Kenma - or, well, what Kuroo’s said about Kenma, at least. Childhood best friend, year younger than him, means the world to him, played volleyball with him in middle school. Basic facts. “What about him?”

“He goes here now - and he’s joining the team.” Before Yaku can say anything, Kuroo continues. “Listen, this might be a little strange, but I talked to Kai already and-”

“You want me to be friends with him?”

Kuroo blinks. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Yaku says with a slight shrug. “But I can do that. Or, at least try.”

A bright grin lights up Kuroo’s face as he wraps an arm tight around his shoulders. “Thanks, Yaku. It’d mean a lot to me.”

Yaku nudges his side with his elbow with a huff. “Don’t thank me - now, c’mon.” As he keeps his head ducked slightly, he hopes Kuroo doesn’t notice the slight tint of pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

(He notices.)

****

 

_second year, september._

 

They’re sitting together during lunch when Yaku first brings it up.

“You should be captain next year, Kuroo.”

Blunt, and to the point - and enough to make Kuroo nearly choke on his drink. He sputters and stares at Yaku with wide eyes. “Wait - you’re serious?”

Yaku raises an eyebrow and, without thinking, offers a tissue for Kuroo. “Why not? You’re the best for the position, by far.”

Kuroo wipes his mouth dry. “Thanks.” He coughs out, then gets to folding up the tissue into a small square. “But, you’re sure, Yaku? What about Kai?”

Yaku doesn’t miss a beat. “He’d be a good vice for you. He’ll keep you in line when I can’t.” Yaku watches as Kuroo folds, unfolds, and refolds the tissue, and sighs to himself. “Just think about it, okay? The coach will ask us eventually who our pick is.”

Doubt lingers in the back of Kuroo’s mind, but he smiles at Yaku still. “Alright, alright - you convinced me.”

(Months later, with unanimous votes and support behind him, he accepts the position.)

****

 

_third year, june._

 

As Yaku steps out of the guidance counselor’s office, Kuroo catches him by the arm. It takes all Yaku has to not yelp, and more than what he has to not whack Kuroo on the shoulder.

Though his shoulder stings, Kuroo thinks it’s worth it - his hand slides down to hold Yaku’s and he hums with delight when Yaku threads his fingers through his. “What did the counselor tell you?”

“The same thing he told you and Kai: that I should quit the club now and focus on studying for entrance exams.” He rests his free hand on his hip, lips pursing in annoyance. “Like we haven’t heard that already.”

Kuroo goes tense for a moment - Yaku feels it in their linked hands, the sweat in his palm. He squeezes gently. “What?”

“You’re not quitting, right?”

Yaku stares up at him blankly. “You’re kidding me, right?” After a pause, long enough for Kuroo to laugh and say it’s a joke if it _was_ one, he frowns. “One, Lev still needs more help, and there’s only so much you can do while being captain. Two, Shibayama needs more time before he can handle being a regular. Three, you’d fall apart without me.

“Four,” He smacks Kuroo’s hip with their joined hands. “we still need to play against Karasuno. Officially.”

“Aww.” A smile creeps on Kuroo’s face. “You care.”

“Of course I do,” is Yaku’s quick reply. “We’re a team - the blood and the brain make up a body.”

The smile turns into a full-blown grin, and he brings Yaku’s hand up to his lips to press a kiss against his knuckles. “Just be on your best behavior these next few months, okay? No starting fights~”

Kuroo’s laughter rings loud and clear down the third year hallway as Yaku smacks the back of his head and barks, “Shut up!”


End file.
